Cranky Pants

My husband has had his Cranky Pants* on for the past few days. And I’m fed up, because this bout of Foul-Moodedness has come after a particularly bad run in our family.


Just last week, Little Man was exceedingly grumpy for a period of several days, due to Too Much Homeworking, insufficient Nintendo Time, and other unspecified Dissatisfactions. Prior to that, three year old Boo was a nightmare for a week, from a combination of Exhaustion, Adjustment To Pre-School, and Spoiled Third-Childedness**.

And before that, well, I was in a bit of a bad mood, for no reason other than...well... I am me. And I seem to get into bad moods fairly regularly (using ‘fairly’ in the sense of ‘very’).

Sometimes, of course, I have reason to be grouchy. I may have had bad news that day. I might be pre-menstrual. Or menstrual. Or pre-menopausal. I might be tired. Or stressed. I may be suffering severely from Excessive-Offspringitis***.

I might have lost my keys in the cold aisle of the supermarket. I may have lost three year old Boo in the supermarket. I may have watched Pinkela eat the last spoon of Nutella and realised there’s none left for me.

On the other hand, I may be cross for no reason at all. I’m a temperamental person. Which is fine – charming, even – as it goes with my fiery, passionate nature. Except that my husband is fiery and passionate too. And to stir things up a bit, so is our son. And to tip us completely over the edge, so is Boo. Which makes for a hell of a lot of fire in just one family.

Thankfully, nine year old Pinkela is extremely even-tempered and calm (which actually is a bit of a worry, as I have no idea who her real parents are). However her older brother and baby sister more than compensate for her serenity, making my husband and I look like beacons of calm by comparison. Between the four of us, we are one big rollercoaster of emotion.

The problem, of course, is that this is utterly exhausting. I’m no expert on statistics, but it’s clear that if I’m in a bad mood around once a week (using ‘once a week’ in the sense of ‘a lot more than that’), and my husband, Little Man and Boo are each in a bad mood around once a week, then at least one of us is in a bad mood on nearly any given day. Which means that the family emotional rollercoaster tends to be a race downhill more often than it is coasting on the flat.

Still, the rollercoaster ride won’t last for long. We only have another 18 to 20 years before the kids will hop out of the car and leave my husband and I in the fun park alone. And then we will hobble over to the Merry-Go-Round, and circle gently in nostalgic quiet, as the families scream wildly around us.

And I shall look back upon our rollercoaster days, and smile.

*These are metaphorical, rather than literal, pants, although his choice of trousers has been somewhat limited by my failure to pick up the drycleaning earlier this week (a factor no doubt contributing to the donning of said Cranky Pants).

**(possibly not an actual diagnostic term.)

***( if this isn’t an actual term, it should be.)